


Idolatrous Fancy

by NoOneKnowsIWriteThis



Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Drunken Confessions, Drunkenness, Introspection, M/M, Pining, Post-Episode: s02e22 The Wire, References to Shakespeare
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-03
Updated: 2018-05-03
Packaged: 2019-05-01 20:14:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,413
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14528313
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NoOneKnowsIWriteThis/pseuds/NoOneKnowsIWriteThis
Summary: Garak gets drunk and contemplates his feelings for Doctor Bashir through Shakespeare quotations.





	Idolatrous Fancy

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [A Different Place](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14121789) by [Squeemish](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Squeemish/pseuds/Squeemish). 



It hadn’t been that long since Garak’s implant had nearly killed him and subsequently been deactivated, but it had been long enough that the memory of the pain it had caused had begun to seem more like a worthy price for the relief it had brought him. The station’s temperature wasn’t freezing, but it was just cold enough that the chill sank into his bones and only faded overnight in time to be replaced the next day when he ventured out of his warmer quarters. The lights were bright enough that they could turn the tentative beginnings of a headache into a monstrous pain.

And then there was the loneliness caused by the constant distance that everyone on the station held him at. Even Doctor Bashir, who was the closest thing he had to a friend, tended to keep their conversations focused on literature, culture, or philosophy and away from discussions of his personal life or history, though he was achingly curious about Garak’s. Those topics were reserved for Bashir’s fellow Starfleet officers or people he was attempting to woo, not for a suspicious Cardassian tailor who had, in another life, been a spy.

So one late evening, after closing up his shop, Garak decided to drop into Quark’s and partake from his selection of kanar. Just a little, to distract from the pain of life.

He settled on an blue kanar, not wanting the strength of black kanar nor the relative simplicity of orange kanar. Blue kanar was strong enough, but with a distinctive tanginess that helped remind you what you were drinking. Garak wasn’t trying to drink himself into oblivion after all.

He’d drunk enough to make things seem somewhat pleasant when Doctor Bashir sat next to him.

“Doctor,” he greeted, perhaps a touch more enthusiastically than he normally would. “Good evening.”

“Hello, Garak,” the young man replied with an amused smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

“Please, have a drink.” Garak offered him the nearly finished bottle, wanting to claim Bashir’s company and attention both.

Bashir considered it for a moment, then said “Why not?” He gestured to Quark for another glass. Then, drink in hand, Bashir turned back, fixing Garak with his soft eyes. Bashir took a cautious sip of his kanar while he waited for Garak to speak.

Instead Garak looked at Bashir, taking in the details of his appearance: the gentle curve of his lips, the faint shimmer to his eyes. Garak found a line from some dreadful play that Bashir had foisted upon him springing to mind.

_ It is the east, and Julian is the sun _ .

And it was tragically true, even more tragic than that he was mentally misquoting that wretched Earth playwright. Julian was his sun. Julian brought warmth and light and happiness into Garak’s life. And wasn’t that a depressingly hopeless sign of how far Garak had fallen.

Apparently he had been silent for too long because Julian spoke again.

“How are you doing?” Julian asked quietly.

Garak shrugged and smiled. “As well as can be expected,” he demurred, knowing that wasn't an answer. He was struck by a sudden suspicion for the reason behind Julian's arrival at Quark's. “I don't make a habit of drinking to excess like this, if that's why you're here.”

Julian chuckled sheepishly at being caught. His eyes dropped to his glass as he took another small sip. “That was part of it, but I have multiple reasons for joining you.”

“Oh?” Garak forced himself to look Julian in the eye and stop examining the way his slender fingers curled around the glass.

“We're friends, Garak,” Julian stated firmly, as if confirming it to himself. “I enjoy spending time with you.”

Garak felt his heart swell despite himself. “You truly mean that,” he whispered.

Julian glanced away as his cheeks flushed slightly. “Yes, so you won't be able to chase me off. I care about you, and I enjoy your company.”

Partially to suppress the urge to say something revealing and partially because he was struck by the knowledge that he should leave before the situation became dangerous, Garak finished off his glass and attempted to step away from the bar, only to wobble alarmingly. Clearly it had been a very long time since he'd last had more to drink than a glass or two.

Instantly, Julian was at his side, half-drunk kanar abandoned. Julian's hand slid around Garak’s waist, that warm caress causing an explosion of heat in Garak's chest.

“Here, let me,” Julian murmured, the offer of help springing automatically from his lips.

Garak started to attempt to wrap his arm around Julian's upper back, but Julian caught him and guided the arm up and around his shoulder, close to his neck. Garak begrudgingly left it there. Human shoulders weren't nearly as sensitive or significant as Cardassian ones, but Garak couldn't repress the feeling of intimacy he felt at the motion.

“Thank you, doctor, I…” All Garak's thoughts of prying himself free and stumbling back to his quarters alone faded at a glimpse of the determination in Julian's eyes.

“I'll help you back to your quarters,” Julian insisted.

Garak could only nod, not trusting himself to speak.

They trudged silently across the promenade, Julian's mammalian warmth a welcome buffer from the station's chill.

Julian turned and smiled softly at him once they were in the turbolift, causing Garak's treacherous heart to flutter. Garak had not only fallen to depths he wouldn't have been able to picture before his exile, he'd also fallen hopelessly in love with this sweet young man, his brilliant sun. That thought only prompted more Shakespeare to spring to mind.

_ ‘T were all one _

_ That I should love a bright particular star _

_ And think to wed it, he is so above me. _

That held true not only in social rank but in personal quality as well. Julian was beautiful and light and far more naive than he'd like, and Garak was twisted and tainted, a tool that had become bent and misshapen from use. Garak was the sort of person who got his hands dirty so that innocents like Julian didn't have to. Julian was a treasure to be safeguarded, a child to be shielded, a white satin not to be touched for fear that Garak's stained hands would mark and ruin it.  Garak would have to grow to be comforted by the light radiating off of Julian, accepting that he would never truly belong beside him. And yet, Julian kept coming to him, begging to know more, unwilling to be turned away.

“Garak, we're here.” Julian's soft voice cut through Garak's thoughts.

“So we are,” Garak replied, entering the code to open his door. He stepped away from Julian's support, ignoring how Julian's hand trailed slightly after him as he pulled away. Garak hesitated in the doorway, turning back to look at Julian's tender smile.

“Do you need help?” Julian asked, always the caretaker.

“You're beautiful.” The words escaped Garak's lips before he realized he was even going to speak.

Julian’s face, which was always a picture of loveliness, somehow became even more so. He blushed prettily as his smile brightened and his eyes sparkled. It was an expression Garak had observed on Julian many times, almost always when he was in the middle of a successful pursuit, and one that Garak had never dreamed would be directed towards him.

“You're drunk,” Julian pointed out, a touch of regret tainting his eyes.

Garak said nothing, not trusting his words after that. He simply smiled a wide mysterious smile and bowed his head, conceding the point. He turned to enter his room when he was stopped by Julian's gentle voice.

“But tomorrow, you won't be.”

It was an obvious observation and yet Garak's traitorous heart swelled at it, especially when it was paired with the invitation in Julian's eyes.

_ If you come to me tomorrow,  _ those eyes promised,  _ and repeat what you just said… _

“I won't be,” Garak echoed, trying and failing to suppress the fluttering warmth in his chest.

Julian smiled, and  _ oh _ Garak was so weak to Julian's gentle smiles.

Garak forced himself to step backwards into his quarters, letting the door slide shut between him and the sun, so warm and bright.

Garak would remember every part of this encounter in the morning, and he knew Julian would too. Nothing could erase what had already happened. The question was: what was Garak going to do in the morning?

**Author's Note:**

> Squeemish's fic inspired me to come up with a reversal of the usual Julian makes a drunken confession trope and play around with the idea of Garak being the drunk one instead.
> 
> Shakespeare Notes:  
> "It is the east, and Julian is the sun." - a misquote from Romeo and Juliet  
> The title, Idolatrous Fancy, comes from the monologue that made up the central core of this fic: Helena's first monologue in All's Well That Ends Well. "Idolatrous fancy" refers to a love that is comparable to religious worship (but in a negative, "false idol" sense).  
> "‘T were all one  
> That I should love a bright particular star  
> And think to wed it, he is so above me."  
> \- Again from Helena's monologue. The entire monologue is about how Helena's love for Bertram will never be realized because of the class difference between them. He is a nobleman and she is a servant. She compares him to a bright, distant star and reflects that she will have to instead be comforted by the radiant light shining off of him.
> 
> This is my favorite Shakespearean monologue, and I've wanted to write something using it for quite some time since I think the comparison to a distant star works very well for how Garak could view Julian.
> 
> I hope you enjoyed!


End file.
